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ruumirmir · 1 year

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Reprise of a rolling mist

Part 1 Part 2 (soon)

☽◯☾ Summary - You, the revered God of Healing and Mist, one of the oldest friends of Zhongli, are not one to be easily taken down, but alas, in the Archon war of brutal massacres, you can’t escape death for long. ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ☽◯☾ Characters - Zhongli, (minor) Cloud Retainer, (minor) Madame Ping ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ☽◯☾ Tags - Zhongli x Reader || Gender Neutral || Angst || Eventual happy ending || Description of blood, violence, and fatal injuries || Mention of death ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ☽◯☾ Word count - 1.2k ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ☽◯☾ Rumour◇ says - my first ever fanfic to be published on tumblr. In case you haven’t seen my previous post, please do! It has some context in it. I hope i did peepaw some justice,, as much as I love him, it was slightly hard to pin his personality down especially in this wild scenario. I’ll probably belt out the part 2 really soon cause I’m done with it, just gotta decorate the post lmao.

‎• ——————————————————————— The nearby corpse of a beast twitches once before falling still. The loud ringing in your head gets louder by the passing minute. Mouth set into a grimace, you roll onto your back and hack out a wet cough.

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ It's hard to breathe with a gaping hole in your torso, still fresh and bloody. Your half-lidded eyes focus onto a speck of ash, floating up to melt into the night air. ‎ ‎

‎ ‎ ‎

The God of War doesn’t fear. No. He is the one who’s feared. And yet...

“No...”, Morax kneels there, watching his old friend, laid upon the charred grass.‎ ‎ ‎ ‎

Your once lustrous hair, now melds into the soot-stained ground, tainted by blood and grime. Your breaths come shallow and short. For all the dust and debris left in the battle's wake, Mt. Tianheng had a pleasant breeze to offer.

His palm find its way to yours; cold to the touch. Fingers tighten around you, and the clarity slowly returns to your hazy eyes.

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎

The stench of burnt flesh permeates the air. His gaze lingers over the yawning cavity in your body; charred at the edges. From such a pair of gods, its not Morax who wields the power to heal and mend. It’s not you who possesses the energy to do so.

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ And so. his hands tremble uselessly over your gut, or the lack thereof.

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎

His most trusted. His closest companion. His oldest friend... The one who shares countless memories with him. The one who had promised to do so for many more years to come.

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎

"M-morax," his name spoken like a sigh. The corners of his mouth twitch into a small smile. Your stomach flares in pain when you fight back a strangled whine. "I am... not your burden to bear amidst a battle."

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎

He sits by you, pained. “Hush... do not strain yourself by talking.” You lie before him, bleeding.

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎

“O great Rex Lapis, won't you be kind? Won't you be wise? Renounce your lands and people? Spare us all a calamity from befalling those subjects of yours? It’s the least of your payment... for eons of slaughter caused by your hands”

A great many creatures had cackled, with many more swarming in. The seething mass of... beastly wasps, misshapen and overgrown, were all too eager for a massacre. A hivemind; disgustingly coordinated in brains and brawn. ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎

By the first rumbling of his meteorite that bombed over Mt. Tianheng, a familiar billowing mist had rolled forward to assist. Whether in your solid body, or a lashing mist, it was hard to quell the pyro gnats. ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎

The grass is stained red by now. He takes your hand and grips it tight, to his chest. You brush your fingers over his bruised knuckles.

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ By the second rumbling of raining spears, Morax’s harsh orders had sent the adepti and yakshas scrambling towards the unprotected city of Liyue. . . . By the third rumbling of his shield molding around you... a flaming projectile had already shot clean through your torso.

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎

You need to fight to keep your eyes open. From a simple flesh wound... what a joke. Your not the admired deity of recovery, just in name, are you?

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ Your fingers twitch, tightening around his robes. "Help me sit upright..."

His sharp exhale falls upon your brows, and with the utmost softest touch, You’re pulled up against his torso. Your head sags against his shoulder, where you can feel the thick pool of sorrow under his skin.

"Please... I do not want to cause you more hurt," The words fall hollow from his lips. He holds you up gently, and you can finally focus on his face. … where you’re met with a wet shine to his eyes.

"What... are you trying to do?" His mouth trembles downwards ever so slightly.

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎

But you... you break out in a rebellious smile, don’t you?

The pain is unbearable. And you laugh all the harder for it. Sweat beads your forehead, and your fingers dig into his arm when he presses into your stomach to slow the bleeding. You bite out a groan. It burns.

"Don't look at me like that Morax", you pant. "This... this is but child’s play for a healer of my caliber...."

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎

Yet, your life trickles out like the grains of sand in an hourglass, and your vision flickers.

He wipes the blood off your lip, clearly vexed, "You are still yourself, I see. Even as you lay here, near death, you are still joking."

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎

"Just... won’t you humor me one last time?" You rasp out, feeling faint. All sensations except the gritting pain have left already. "Lend me some energy- so my body can return to what it once was..."

"Because... I, the Healer God of Mist, am alone the revered one... who holds mortality at my fingertips..." your voice breaks towards the end, but you still flash a smile of dogged arrogance, don’t you? (There is nothing but a theory borne from your feverish thoughts.)

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎

He gazes at you; minutes away from the end. The god who holds no regrets, who has not one ounce of fear in their voice. (You have never been more terrified of death, for you only know how to run from it.) With a melancholy rustle of feathers, comes another soft voice, "Ever so conceited, until the very end...”, Cloud retainer murmurs into the night.

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎

His skin glows alight, veins illuminated on his chest and arms. His gnosis ignites for your fanatical whims. It always did. "How could I ever refuse you...?", his trembling voice, so quiet. You’re met with a familiar embrace.

‎ … ‎ ‎ ‎ “If mortals pray to gods in their time of need, who does a god pray to?”

Two drops fall to your neck, rolling away until they wet your clothes.

“No one.” His smile is soft, and voice raspy. “A god can only pray to himself... but, he may have hope in others.” ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎

Your body slowly starts to dissipate into millions of droplets of condensation that scatter into the air, where the wind blows parts of you away, and away. ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ The soft tunes of a zither ring out into the air, permeating the atmosphere with a slow melody. An adeptus sits atop a nearby rock, her eyes downcast.

ah. ‘Ping's zither’, you sigh. ‘How kind of her.’

And he smiles through his tears.

Isn't it beautiful?

A great rolling mist dissolves into the air. With dust and ash in the air, it swirls and rises up and above. The wasted grassland is littered with thousands of droplets that shimmer like stars as the moonlight reflects off them. It is as beautiful. as it is empty.

On a night like this, Streetward rambler’s tune graces the wind, until her fingers bleed. Cloud Retainer sheds no tears, but know that she holds your memory well.

And you, Rex Lapis,

Morax,

you weep for me.

Taglist - @ainescribe || @theorchardcollective || @flos-historia || @nightrayseishina || @thesparklingwriter

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kaitsawamura · 3 months

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PROLOGUE

☽ stats ☾ | all other information on this fic including additional warnings can be found on the masterlist

chapter rating: t for thematic elements better suited to older audiences

chapter warnings: fantasy violence/gore, mentions of dispatching monsters, mentions of blood

chapter tags: semi-canon divergent

chapter word count: 2207

divider credit: { link }

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EIGHT MONTHS AGO

The smell of burning wood combined with the brine of high autumn salt air lays thick and suffocating on your tongue. Cries of fear and anger echo out across the sliver of beach that you call home. Fucking pirate monsters. Your face is pressed into the sand, a gnarled hand shoving you down so you can’t move. A knobby knee digs into your spine as you scramble to find anything you might use as a weapon but the only thing your fingers find purchase in is the earth beneath you. The silver bokoblin bends close, its pungent breath making you gag. It chitters and growls and as it gets closer to your face, closer to your neck, you see the points of its teeth. They are blunt and yellowed and dripping with saliva. Still, it is evident they were made for killing. For tearing their prey limb from limb.

You feel the moment when it rears back and plunges down, its maw latching onto the junction of your neck and shoulder and try as you might, you cannot contain the scream of pain that rips from your throat as its teeth sink deep in your flesh. You thrash in the sand, searching searching searching as the creatures grips harder and then yanks back, tearing the skin and muscle. If you thought the bite itself hurt, you nearly black out from this. Blood rushes warm and copious from your veins.

The life is draining out of you at a rate that you realize with a sharp pang in your gut is most likely going to be impossible to recover from. You also realize that if you can’t find a weapon and fast, you won’t even have the opportunity to try. You close your eyes, trying to ignore the stars you’re beginning to see. Something slices raggedly into your palm and you gasp when you latch onto the hilt of a rusty dagger. With all the force you can muster, which is dishearteningly very little, you flip onto your back and kick. Your foot makes contact with the bokoblin’s left side; it lets out a little grunt but the blow seems to do hardly anything. There is a glitter in its eyes as it leans in for another bite. You wait until it’s as close as it’s going to get without doing anymore damage and steel yourself as the last bit of adrenaline in your body rushes through.

Swift as a hightail lizard, you thrust the dagger upward; the jagged broken blade pierces the hide of the silver bokoblin at its neck. The monster screeches, clutching at the weapon lodged in its throat. Blood that looks closer to sludge drips from the wound and bursts in a steady stream when it finally rips it out. The liquid arcs across the ground and onto you but satisfaction ripples above the dizziness crashing over you. You let your head thump back onto the sand as the bokoblin stumbles backwards and falls, dead.

You stare up at the blue sky above you; the sun beats down on your wounded body. You can’t tell if the trickling you feel on your neck is your blood or sweat but you’d wager it’s both. At least if you die here, you took the monster down with you. What is that thumping? It’s a staccato rhythm pounding in your head. It’s your heart beat. Despite the heat, you’re beginning to feel cold. Black swims at the edges of your vision and then takes over as you slip into the dark.

PRESENT DAY

The great evil had been vanquished. This time, it was for good. Link knew. Princess Zelda knew. Her team included some of the greatest minds besides herself; Purah and Robbie had concluded extensive researching and testing to make sure that the Demon King was completely and wholly gone. There were no traces of the Calamity like there had been when she and Link and the Divine Beasts had destroyed him before. No evidence of the chaos he had caused aside from the wreckage that was being repaired all over Hyrule. As the months went on, there were less monsters and more citizens. Many had been in hiding. Families had been ravaged, torn apart and flung to every end of the kingdom. Reunions were becoming commonplace and while there had been great loss, the people of Hyrule were growing stronger than they ever had before. Their persistance in continuing on when the very world seemed to have been ending was one that would be heard across the fabric of time for eons to come. And yet, among the happiness, there was a restlessness growing in Link that both he and Zelda knew well.

“Where will you go now?” Moonlight streamed in through the window of Zelda’s private chambers, across the stone floor and onto her bed where she lay with her knight. He was quiet, as he usually was. The princess (soon to be queen, he mused internally) lay across his chest, an arm slung over his stomach. Since she had returned to her human form after the last battle, they had taken to sleeping in the same bed; it was the only way she could get anything close to sleep. She still dreamed strange dreams and had a difficult time sticking to any normal sleep schedule. He traced circles into the skin of her arm.

“There’s restoration efforts in Lurelin Village. Bolson is heading the project.” He doesn’t offer anything other than the facts. Zelda can read between the lines. I don’t know why I can’t stay put. I just have to go. It hadn’t surprised either of them when this urge for going had sprouted up the last time Calamity was killed. Link had spent so long in slumber and then so long traveling that he didn’t really know how to stay in one place anymore. And Zelda was always busy now; she had council meetings and relief efforts of her own to attend to.

“You know you always have a place here, in the castle. With me.” He nods against the crown of her head, breathing in the floral scent wafting gently from the golden strands. Zelda too, left words unsaid, he could tell. I love you. Don’t go. I love you. I know you must do this. Maybe some years down the road, he wouldn’t feel such a pull in his heart. He just had traveling in his blood and once it ran out, he would come back. Wouldn’t he? The sensation of a plucked string sang behind his rib cage. There was something waiting for him out there. He just didn’t know what. “You should be the one stepping in as Captain of the Guard, you know.” Her words are prim, clipped, said with a smirk.

Link grunts in sarcastic acknowledgment. Zelda knows that things have changed; duty was still everything to Link but not in the same way it was before. It had always been less about the monarchy and more about its people but now… Link was loyal to Zelda but outside of that, he had no use for the palace or any of its frills anymore. Neither did the princess, really, but she had a kingdom to lead. Her people were just as important to her; she served them in different ways than Link.

“I’ll be leaving at dawn, Little Dragon. I already sent the letter to Bolson.” Zelda’s eyes are heavy but they snap back open at Link’s words. She draws in a quick breath, both at the term of endearment and at the knowledge that his departure was coming so soon. She should have known better than to think he wouldn’t have been ready to go before he had told her where he was leaving for.

“Of course, your assistance will be appreciated, I'm sure.” Zelda replies quietly, grasping onto Link tighter. If only for the night, she can pretend that this is where he belongs.

You hear Bolson’s voice before you see him; he’s nudging at you with his sandaled toe, intoning enthusiastically with words you can’t quite understand in the throes of your sleep-laden mind.

“Link… coming here… be here… the end of the week!” The fog clears too slowly from your brain as you roll back over on your cot, burying your face in your pillow with a groan. You didn’t sleep well again; you don’t sleep well most nights anymore. Nightmares still plague your dreams. The silver bokoblin’s attack had left you with a nasty scar. You slip a hand up to touch at it, wincing when you find that it’s still impossibly sore. Complete mobility in your right arm is a thing of the past. Since training yourself to be ambidextrous has proven to be much more challenging than you’d thought it would be, there’s a lot you still can’t do.

“Did you hear me?” You finally roll over to look up at Bolson with squinted eyes. The ground is lumpy beneath you. It’s probably time to find a better spot to pitch your tent. Your back and limbs and neck all protest when you sit up, yawning. The architect is so obviously impatient, you decide to move a little slower. His foot taps in the sand, his arms are crossed, and he continues to huff the longer you take.

“Hm, I heard something about our savior Link. I didn’t sleep very well and since I was so rudely awakened,” you blink up at him with a sarcastic grin, “I didn’t quite catch the rest of it.” Bolson throws his hands in the air and rolls his eyes. But then he’s looking down at you and the taste of what you perceive as pity sits bitter on your tongue. You had lost almost everyone dear to you in the attack. Things were slowly getting back to normal now that Link and Princess Zelda had defeated Ganon; there were less and less attacks from dwindling monster ranks. It didn’t change that fact that life would never be the way it was before. Bolson takes a step closer, as if he might put a comforting hand on your shoulder but then steps back, thinking better of it.

“I said that Link has heard of the restoration efforts here and has decided to come help. He sent correspondence by way of Rito Post. The letter arrived this morning but was dated two days ago so we’ve already lost time to prepare. I know there’s not much that we can offer him yet in the way of private quarters but I want to give him the warmest welcome we can.” You think Bolson goes on to say something else but once again, you don’t hear a word.

Link is coming back to Lurelin Village. It should be excitement coursing through your veins, reverence, and yet… The sensation fluttering in your stomach is apprehension. You’d heard plenty of stories from Bolson about what a good young man he was (and cute too!). Why, if it hadn’t been for Link, Bolson wouldn’t have gotten to see as much of the world as he had. Stories were plentiful from those who had encountered him elsewhere, words like selfless, courageous, strong, intelligent, good good good, flowed easily from peoples’ mouths.

Yes, he deserved a welcome far grander than any of you could give him. And that made you want to crawl in a hole and not come out.

“You didn’t hear a word I said did you?” Bolson looks at you, hands on his hips. You give him a sheepish smile, stretching in place then stand, amused by all the pops coming from deep in your joints. “Give me just a few hours today and then you can come take a nap.” Words of protest form on your lips but he finally closes the space, gently placing his hands on your shoulders and forcing you to make eye contact with him. He is far kinder to you than you are to yourself; nearly everyone lost something or someone in the chaos. You are not made special in your sorrow. “You need it, you deserve it and I won’t hear another thing about it.” There’s a sparkling determination in his eyes that you know you won’t refuse. He knows the moment you give in and smiles, bright and unabashed. “Excellent. There’s smoked Armored Porgy with eggs and tomatoes waiting for you when you come out.” Your mouth waters.

“Thanks Bolson.” He waves at your as he steps from your tent. A few hours of work and then a nap… It was more wasted time than Lurelin Village could afford but if there was anything about you and your people, it was that the community was strong. Someone would be there to pick up your slack and in time, you would be able to return the favor. It was a group effort. Now, it was a group effort to make a place for Link. You smile to yourself as you step outside, blinking into the rising sun. Its rays glint off the waves in the distance. The air is already warm but it smells salty and fresh. A storm head gathers in the distance, promising a reprieve from early summer heat.

The breeze whispers someone’s coming. Someone is coming, indeed.

#link x reader #zelda x reader #link x zelda #botw link #totk link #botw zelda #totk zelda #link x reader x zelda #link x zelda x reader #breath of the wild #tears of the kingdom #the legend of zelda #fic: thats just wasteland baby #kait writes

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cilil · 1 year

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☽ 𝐋𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐦𝐮𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 - 𝐍𝐚𝐫𝐧 𝐞·'𝐑𝐚𝐜𝐡 𝐌𝐨𝐫𝐠𝐨𝐭𝐡 𝐚 𝐌𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐨𝐬 ☾

("The Tale of the Curse of Morgoth and Mandos")*

The Doom of the Noldor and Melkor cursing Húrin's family have always been fascinating and also special cases of Ainur exercising their powers for me. After sharing my thoughts with my good friend @edensrose I realized that there might be more to this than I initially assumed and set out to find better answers and explanations to improve my understanding of the subject and my headcanons.

I'll be providing some quotes and passages from the Silmarillion as well as the Children of Húrin, but the page numbers might be inaccurate due to PDF and version differences.

Feel free to use what I'll be outlining below as background info for your own works (a link to this post and/or a little shout-out would be much appreciated in that case :3).

Do Ainur have the ability to mess with fate itself? The answer is a tentative yes. Some of them seem to have power over fate, however Melkor is the only one (at least among the Valar) who attempts to actively alter it, be it due to him choosing to ignore parts of the Ainulindalë and/or thinking he has more power over the outcome than he actually has. Others like Námo and Manwë choose to be more passive observers/attempt to act according to Eru's will (for more on that see my previous musings about Námo).

Let's talk about Melkor's curse first, as it's the more straightforward one. In the introduction of the Narn (as I'll call it for short from now on) Christopher Tolkien writes the following:

"The curse of such a being, who can claim that ‘the shadow of my purpose lies upon Arda [the Earth], and all that is in it bends slowly and surely to my will’, is unlike the curses or imprecations of beings of far less power. Morgoth is not ‘invoking’ evil or calamity on Húrin and his children, he is not ‘calling on’ a higher power to be the agent: for he, ‘Master of the fates of Arda’ as he named himself to Húrin, intends to bring about the ruin of his enemy by the force of his own gigantic will. Thus he ‘designs’ the future of those whom he hates, and so he says to Húrin: ‘Upon all whom you love my thought shall weigh as a cloud of Doom, and it shall bring them down into darkness and despair.’" "In the tale of Túrin, who named himself Turambar ‘Master of Fate’, the curse of Morgoth seems to be seen as power unleashed to work evil, seeking out its victims [...]" (Narn, p. 12, emphasis mine)

So when Melkor says to Húrin that

"But upon all whom you love my thought shall weigh as a cloud of Doom, and it shall bring them down into darkness and despair. Wherever they go, evil shall arise. Whenever they speak, their words shall bring ill counsel. Whatsoever they do shall turn against them." (Narn, p. 13)

it's not a bluff, he fully intends on causing these things to happen.

Melkor "designing" the fate of specific people has a requirement, however: He needs to have vision of or access to them, if you will. Under normal circumstances this is the case for pretty much everyone in Middle-earth due to Arda being essentially his Ring (for more information on that, have a look at "Morgoth's Ring"). Túrin is briefly shielded from Melkor's influence by the Girdle of Melian:

"Report of the Dragon-helm in the land west of Sirion came swiftly to the ear of Morgoth, and he laughed, for now Túrin was revealed to him again, who had long been lost in the shadows and under the veils of Melian. Yet he began to fear that Túrin would grow to such a power that the curse that he had laid upon him would become void, and he would escape the doom that had been designed for him, or else that he might retreat to Doriath and be lost to his sight again" (Narn, p. 88, emphasis mine)

Additionally, this passage hints that, with enough power, Túrin could free himself from the curse, which implies that some form of power struggle on an individual level between the "curser" and the "cursed" is involved. This could explain why Melkor isn't attempting to curse more powerful individuals like his fellow Ainur or cursing more people in general - it'd require too much of his strength that he's already spending elsewhere.

It can be theorized that Melkor having the power to directly affect others on such a level, especially given how humans aren't bound to Arda and therefore have more freedom in terms of fate, is (at least partly) another result of him dispersing his spiritual power and pouring it into the very fabric of Arda. This is also the reason why his influence is still there even when he himself is no longer around after the First Age and continues to affect incarnates in particular.

Now, what about the Doom of the Noldor? Did Námo curse the Noldor like Melkor cursed Húrin's family, actively using his power to cause bad things to happen, or did he merely prophesize what was going to happen, with the intention to issue a stern warning?

A similarity between the two curses is that they seem to stick to the affected people, follow them and chase them down no matter what they do. Here are a few example passages that highlight this:

"Thus because of the curse that lay upon them the Noldor achieved nothing, while Morgoth hesitated, and the dread of light was new and strong upon the Orcs" (Silmarillion, p. 138)

"And Ulmo warned Turgon that he also lay under the Doom of Mandos, which Ulmo had no power to remove. ‘Thus it may come to pass,’ he said, ‘that the curse of the Noldor shall find thee too ere the end, and treason awake within thy walls. Then they shall be in peril of fire." (Silmarillion, p. 158)

"And because of the curse of the Kinslaying at Alqualondë these lies were often believed; and indeed as the time darkened they had a measure of truth, for the hearts and minds of the Elves of Beleriand became clouded with despair and fear" (Silmarillion, p. 195, emphasis mine)

There are, however, a few key differences which not only highlight that Námo isn't going to the same lengths as Melkor - if he even can or would ever be willing to - but also make it possible to interpret the Doom of the Noldor as more of a prophecy:

Firstly, it's sometimes referred to as a prophecy, for example in the Silmarillion right before the fateful words are uttered.

Secondly, there is no way for anyone to "shield" themselves from Námo's curse, as it affects Thingol in Doriath too as soon as he tells Beren to retrieve a Silmaril.

Thirdly, Námo's passive approach to situations, even being silent during important moments where his knowledge of the future could prevent huge tragedies (for this, again, see my previous post about Námo), is a direct contradiction to Melkor's active designing of other people's futures.

In light of this, I think the truth lies somewhere in the middle. The Doom of the Noldor sticks to them and keeps affecting them negatively until the Valar pardon then, but Námo doesn't exercise some kind of malicious will to actively cause all these horrible events to happen. I think it may be part of Eru's will and an inherent quality of Arda and its fate, woven into the fabric of its reality through the Ainulindalë, that evil acts lead to bad outcomes in the end and to the undoing of the one committing them. Námo once again acts as judge and prophet who tells the Noldor about the consequences of their actions, which leads to the curse being attributed to him and not the other Valar as well, or even Eru.

There's a brief exchange between Námo and Manwë that can shed some more light on this aspect:

"And it was told by the Vanyar who held vigil with the Valar that when the messengers declared to Manwë the answers of Fëanor to his heralds, Manwë wept and bowed his head. But at that last word of Fëanor: that at the least the Noldor should do deeds to live in song for ever, he raised his head, as one that hears a voice far off, and he said: ‘So shall it be! Dear-bought those songs shall be accounted, and yet shall be well-bought. For the price could be no other. Thus even as Eru spoke to us shall beauty not before conceived be brought into Eä, and evil yet be good to have been.’ But Mandos said: ‘And yet remain evil. To me shall Fëanor come soon.’" (Silmarillion, p. 124, emphasis mine)

Manwë is likely referencing Eru's words to Melkor:

"And thou, Melkor, shalt see that no theme may be played that hath not its uttermost source in me, nor can any alter the music in my despite. For he that attempteth this shall prove but mine instrument in the devising of things more wonderful, which he himself hath not imagined" (Silmarillion, p. 28)

The voice far off Manwë is hearing could be Eru communicating with him, making his will and intentions clear. As cold, tone-deaf or even ridiculous Manwë's statement of "oh, it will turn out good in the end" sounds to us in the situation he finds himself in at that time, he ends up being correct in some ways: The sequence of events causes some of the greatest stories and most heroic deeds in the history of Arda to happen as well as leading to Melkor being defeated.

To summarize: Melkor's and Námo's curses differ mostly due to the different approaches of the Vala in question, with Melkor actively seeking to enforce his malicious will while Námo is usually a passive observer whose goal isn't to influence people or change the outcome. Personally, I think Námo could curse people like Melkor did - and perhaps his curse had some kind of element to it that negatively affected the Noldor in addition to the consequences of their actions - but he doesn't consider it his place to do so.

*"Narn e·'Rach Morgoth" was an alternative title Tolkien proposed for "The Children of Húrin"

#namo #namo mandos #melkor #morgoth #silmarillion analysis #doom of the noldor #children of hurin #ainur #valar #tolkien #headcanon #manwe #manwe sulimo #eru iluvatar #noldor

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wonderswritings · 2 years

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When Worlds Collide: Friends or Enemies?

Summary: Five years ago, the world changed. Eight months ago, the world changed again; all with a snap of fingers. Now we’re dealing with the aftermath of those actions, and it’s hard for everyone. Especially for those they left behind.

Warnings: No Way Home Spoilers, Angst, Mentions of Blood/Injuries, Character Death, PTSD, Possibly More to Come

Pairings: TASM!Peter Parker x Fem!Stark!Reader- nicknamed Mel

In this fic, Pepper is not your mother, and Morgan is only your half sister. You are Tony’s daughter, but your mother is never mentioned.

!!!Important!!! This is a rewrite of book 1 of WWC. Titles and some plot points will carry over.

Tags ~please please read the rules before filling out the form!

AO3

When Worlds Collide Masterlist

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You groaned as you came to, pain shooting throughout your body. You whimpered as you looked around, dirt falling on your face.

“May.”

You tried to sit up, gasping when you fell back, hardly even moving an inch.

“Peter?”

You tried moving again, huffing.

“Come on.”

You breathed a small sigh of relief when you managed to free your hands, feeling around. Something hard was on top of you, keeping you pinned. You tried to move it again, gasping as it was lifted off you, lights shining down on you, causing you to close your eyes as they blinded you.

“We’ve got a survivor.”

Hands descended on you, helping you sit up as you coughed.

“It’s YN Stark.”

One of the men knelt in front of you, skinning their light in your eyes.

“Miss Stark, are you alright?”

You nodded slowly, taking a few deep breaths as you looked around.

“Where’s May and Peter?”

They didn’t answer you as they helped you stand, holding onto you as they led you out of the building.

“Where is May and Peter?”

You gasped when you saw the destruction outside the building, looking around. Police cars were on fire, some flipped over, most of the ground in ruins.

“Oh my god.”

You stopped walking, pulling your arm free from their grasp as you looked up at them.

“I’m not asking again, where are May and Peter?”

The officer turned towards you, huffing.

“Peter Parker is an escaped fugitive and May Parker is dead.”

You gasped, shaking your head as tears formed in your eyes.

“No, no, no. No.”

“I’m sorry.”

You shook your head, looking over at the officer.

“No, you’re not. I am.”

He made a face, opening his mouth to say something when you lifted your hand, punching him in the face. He fell to the ground as you shook your hand, wincing at the flair of pain.

“Seriously, what the hell did Strange do to me?”

You slightly kicked the officer, nodding slightly when he didn’t move, passed out, as it started to rain, the rain mixing with the blood and dirt that covered you.

“Tragedy. What else can I call it? What more need be said?”

You made a face, looking up as you dropped your hand, seeing Jameson, causing you to clench your jaw.

“The damage. The destruction. You saw it with your own eyes. When will people wake up, and realize that everywhere Spiderman goes, chaos and calamity ensue. Everything Spiderman touches comes to ruin.”

You walked towards him, balling your hands into fists.

“And we, the innocents, are left to pick up the pieces. J. Jonah Jameson, reporting. Good night and god help us all.”

“Jonah.”

He jumped, turning towards you, his eyes wide as he looked you over, no doubt eyeing the blood that you were covered in.

“YN.”

You scoffed, shaking your head.

“It’s Miss Stark to you.”

Jonah huffed, glaring as he waved his hand towards his cameraman, motioning for him to resume recording, but you could care less. Jonah always had something to say, his opinionated remarks causing you to have headaches every time you heard his voice.

“Should’ve known you’d be here, Miss Stark. Protecting the Parker’s still? You know, he’s a murderer now, for real this time. You can’t protect him.”

You huffed, stepping closer to him, swinging your arm, punching him in the face. He fell to the ground, looking up at you as he rubbed his face, blood dripping from the corner of his mouth.

“You hit me.”

He turned, looking over at his cameraman, raising his voice.

“She hit me!”

Your glare hardened as you walked towards him, bending down and picking him up by the collar of his shirt, a flash of lightning striking.

“I can do a lot worse than that, John.”

He shook his head, whimpering slightly as he started to shake in fear.

“You wouldn’t. Not on live television and the cops standing fifty feet behind you.”

“I wouldn’t care. You hurt my family. I have nothing to lose.”

“Pet- Peter, he left.”

You glanced over at the cameraman, watching as he tensed, shaking.

“What?”

“Peter, he left. Before the cops stormed the building he left.”

You looked back over at John, glaring at him as you set him down.

“Watch your back John.”

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“Still nothing?”

“No.”

MJ walked towards the table, sitting down, rubbing a hand against her forehead, looking over at the box.

“I’m gonna press it.”

“What?”

Ned shook his head, sitting up.

“No.”

“I know he told me to wait, but I’m gonna do it. We don’t know where he’s at or YN.”

“I just, I just wish that we could see him.”

There was a small sparkle of light, flickering before it disappeared.

“Ned?”

“Yeah?”

“Do that again.”

Ned nodded, his eyes wide as he waved his hands.

“Yeah. I just wish we could see him.”

He moved his hands, the circle slowly growing bigger.

“I just wish we could see Peter.”

The portal appeared, no longer flickering.

“Salamangkero!”

Ned glanced over at his Lola, nodding.

“Lola you’re right. I am magic.”

Ned and MJ looked over at the portal, seeing a figure at the end of the alley, causing them to squint.

“Is that him?”

“Yeah, yeah. It has to be.”

“Peter. Peter!”

“Hey, Peter! Peter!”

Peter ran through the portal, Ned’s Lola screaming.

“Hi. Hi! No, no, no.”

He took his mask off, gasping as he held his hands up in front of him.

“It’s okay, it’s okay. I’m a nice guy.”

“Who the hell are you?”

“I’m Peter Parker.”

“That’s not possible.”

“I am Spiderman. In my world. But then, yesterday? I was- I was just here.”

Peter walked around, his eyes wide, causing MJ and Ned to tense as they watched him.

“Wow. String theory, multidimensional reality and matter displacement.”

He looked over at MJ and Ned, his eyes wide.

“All real?”

“Yeah.”

“Knew it!”

“This has to be because of the spell.”

Peter turned, looking over at them, gasping.

“The spell? Like magic spell?”

“There’s no spell.”

“No spell. No.”

He grinned, tilting his head to the side.

“Magic’s real here, too?”

“I mean-”

“Shut up, Ned.”

“No, it’s not real.”

“Shut up.”

“I mean- there’s magicians and stuff, but there’s no like-”

“Stop it. Stop. Stop.”

MJ looked over at Peter, waving her finger at him.

“Prove it.”

“Prove what?”

“That you’re Peter Parker.”

Peter shrugged, shaking his head.

“I don’t carry an ID with me, you know? Kinda defeats the whole anonymous superhero thing?”

MJ glared slightly as she picked a roll up, throwing it at him, causing him to make a face as it bounced off him, falling to the floor.

“Why’d you do that?”

“To see if you have the tingle thing.”

He nodded, shrugging slightly.

“I have the tingle thing, just not for bread.”

MJ lifted another roll, causing him to sigh.

“Can you not throw the bread again? You’re a deeply mistrusting person. And I respect that.”

He jumped up, touching the ceiling with his hand, sticking to it.

“Crawl around.”

“Crawl around?”

“Yes.”

“No.”

“Yes. Crawl around.”

“Why do I need to crawl around?”

“Cause it’s not enough.”

“This is plenty.”

“No, it’s not.”

“Yes, it is.”

“Nuh-uh.”

“How do I stick to the ceiling?

MJ threw the roll she was holding at him, hitting him in the face.

“Do it.”

“Ned.”

Ned turned from where he was watching Peter, looking over at his Lola.

“Sabihin mo diyan sa mamang yan, na alisin yung agiw sa sulok. Ha?”

Ned nodding, turning back towards Peter and pointing towards the corner.

“My Lola’s asking if you could just get the cobweb there.”

Peter nodded, sticking his mask in his mouth.

“Yeah.”

He kicked his legs up, crawling towards the corner, getting the web before he dropped down to the floor, landing in front of the portal.

“Thank you.”

He nodded, looking over at MJ.

“We’re go-”

He huffed, grabbing his mask, holding his arms out.

“We’re good?”

“For now.”

Ned turned towards MJ, nodding slightly.

“So, I opened the wrong portal to the wrong Peter Parker.”

Peter’s eyes widened when the portal closed, throwing his arms up.

“Yeah. I guess you just keep doing it until you find the real one.”

“Ouch.”

MJ glanced at Peter, shrugging.

“No offense.”

She looked back over at Ned, nodding.

“Okay. You got it.”

“Find Peter Parker.”

“What’s the thing on his hand?”

MJ shot Peter a look as she shushed him, causing him to step back, lifting his hands up in front of him as he mouthed ‘sorry.’

“Find Peter Parker. Find Peter Parker!”

A portal opened behind them, causing them to turn, Ned huffing as the person walked through the portal.

“Great, it’s just some random guy.”

“Hello.”

He lifted his hand, waving as he smiled.

“I hope it's okay, I just came through this-”

He turned, pointing to the portal, slightly making a face as he turned back towards them.

“Oh it just closed.”

“You’re Peter?”

“Yeah. Peter Parker. I- I’ve seen you two-”

Lola waved at him, causing him to smile as he returned the wave.

“Hi.”

He looked back at the other Peter, making a face as he walked behind the table.

“Wait. He’s- he’s not your friend.”

They both shot their arms out, shooting a web at each other as they flipped, dodging the webs. The older Peter shot another web at the younger Peter’s web shooter, causing him to grin as he looked down at his web shooter.

“Huh.”

Ned shook his head, looking between them both.

“Wait. So you’re Spiderman too? Why didn’t you just say that?” “I generally don’t go around advertising it. Kinda defeats the whole anonymous superhero thing.”

“I said that.”

“That’s what he just said.”

“Ikaw, ha? Nagkalat ka nanaman. Linisin mo lahat ng mga basura mo dito. At ikaw? Alam mo na gusto ko itong bahay natin, maayos. pero tingnan mo, dumi dito, dumi doon.”

“My Lola’s asking if you could clean up the webs that you just shot.”

“Oh. Sorry Lola.”

“Yes, of course.”

“I’m going to bed.”

“Goodnight Lola.”

“Night Ned’s Lola.”

The younger Peter picked the webs up as the older Peter walked towards MJ and Ned, Lola huffing.

“This might seem kind of weird, but I’ve been trying to find your friend ever since I got here. I just had this sense that he needs my help.”

“Our help.”

“He does. We don’t know where he is. And, umm, honestly, right now, we’re all he really has left.”

“Well, is there some place, that he might go that has meaning to him? Like a- a place where he would go to just-”

“Get away from everything?”

“For me, it was the top of the Chrysler Building.”

“Empire State. Better view.”

“That is a sweet view.”

MJ nodded, thinking about all the possible places Peter could’ve gone to.

“Yes. Yeah, I think I know exactly where that would be.”

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Walking down the streets of the city, you tried to think of where Peter could be, or even MJ and Ned. But your head was hurting too much, and your steps were growing sluggish. You jumped slightly when your phone went off, reaching in your pocket for it, surprised to see the only damage done to it was a scratch in the corner.

“Hello?”

“Miss Stark, I’m so sorry but they just stormed in and they said they have Happy-”

You stopped walking, tensing as you leaned against the side of a building.

“Wait, Maria, Maria take a deep breath, okay? Who’s there?”

“NYPD. They said they have a warrant-”

“Put them on.”

There was a commotion on the other end before it settled, a familiar voice speaking, causing you to roll your eyes.

“Miss Stark.”

“Officer Dimwit. Harassing people again, are we?”

“I have a warrant for your arrest, Stark.”

You made a face, tilting your head to the side.

“Do you now? Whatever for?”

“Destruction of public property, assaulting a police officer, and assaulting a news reporter.”

You made a face, slightly shaking your head.

“Destruction of public property? I haven’t-”

“The building was in your name. You were found in the middle of the destruction, where a body was found.”

You tensed, looking around.

“Are you charging me with murder?”

“If I have anything to say about it, yes.”

You clenched your jaw, hanging up without a response, powering your phone down completely before you threw it, watching as it shattered against the side of the building. You stuck to the shadows as you made your way through the city, avoiding anything that even slightly resembled cops. Walking into an empty diner, you looked around, jumping slightly when a waitress walked out from the back.

“Hello and welcome to-”

Her eyes widened when she saw you, slightly shaking her head.

“Oh sweetie, are you okay? Do I- would you like me to call the cops? Get you some help?”

You shook your head, taking a deep breath.

“No, I uh- could I use your phone?”

She nodded, offering you a smile.

“Of course sweetheart.”

She grabbed the phone, meeting you halfway, handing it to you.

“Call me if you need anything, okay?”

You nodded, offering her a small smile.

“Thank you.”

She nodded, and you watched as she walked back into the back before you dialed, holding the phone up to your ear.

“I’m sorry, but all calls are being redirected unless you are-”

“Maria.”

There was a gasp and then a clattering sound, causing you to grin slightly.

“YN?”

“Yeah.”

“Oh my god. Are you okay? They-”

“Are they still there?”

“No. They left after you hung up.”

“Good, I need you to listen carefully, okay?”

“Of course.”

“Call Matt Murdock. Tell him what’s happened and ask him if he could find Happy and help him. I’ll double his pay.”

“Yes mam.”

“Okay, then have Friday make sure the place is safe and secure and then go into my dad's lab. Have her show you where the safe is-”

“Your dad’s lab? Are you sure? You said the labs were off limits.”

You smiled softly, nodding.

“I know what I said, but I’m taking it back, okay? Friday will help you get into the safe. I’ll need you to send it to my location.”

“Okay, and what’s your location?”

“Wherever Peter is.”

“And that is?”

“I don’t know. I can’t find him. That’s another thing I need you to do.”

“Find out where Peter is?”

“Yes. And just have it with what’s in the safe. But whatever happens, don’t let them find out where Peter is, or what’s in the safe.”

“Yes mam.”

“And Maria?”

“Yes?”

“Thank you.”

“Of course.”

You both said your goodbyes, and after hanging up you set the phone on the counter, slipping out before the waitress could come back. All you had to do now was wait, and hope that Peter didn’t get into any more trouble before you could find him.

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Luckily the rain had stopped, leaving you with a s;ight chill as you walked. Your head was pounding, your arms and legs aching. You’d decided to stop, just for a moment's rest when a hand was placed over your mouth, another wrapping around your middle, causing you to tense as you tried to break free from they’re grasp as they pulled you into the alley.

“YN. YN. Mel, stop. Stop, it’s me.”

He dropped his hands, letting you go as you turned, your chest heaving as you hit his arm.

“Matt, what the hell!”

He grinned, tilting his head to the side.

“Sorry.”

“You know you’re not supposed to just grab people!”

You shook your head, huffing slightly.

“What’re you even doing here? And how’d you find me?”

He smirked, slightly shaking his head.

“I always find you, Mel.”

You huffed, muttering as you shot him a slight glare.

“Shut up.”

“And, Maria sent me.”

You gasped, your eyes widening.

“Maria? Is Happy okay?”

“Yes. All he did was stop th-”

Matt stopped talking, slightly making a face as he stepped closer to you.

“Matt?”

“You’re injured.”

He cupped your face in his hand, running his thumb along your cheekbone.

“Uh, yeah.”

He shook his head, his voice growing deeper as he slightly growled.

“You should be healed.”

You nodded, tensing when he skimmed his fingers over the cut on your forehead.

“Wizard whammied me. Powers are kaput, so my healing’s apparently kaput too.”

“What happened?”

You shrugged, sighing softly.

“Got into a fight with a lizard. Fell a couple of stories. Got blown up. Crushed under some debris.”

“Mel-”

“It’s fine.”

“You’re bleeding.”

“I’ll be fine.”

You shook your head, looking up at him.

“If Maria told you where I was, then do you have it?”

Matt huffed, nodding as he reached into his pocket, holding his hand out towards you. You tilted your head to the side, causing him to grin as he nodded.

“Right.”

He turned, placing the small box on top of the table that had had junk thrown on it.

“I forgot about that.”

You shook your head as you shot him a grin, grabbing the box and opening it. You smiled slightly as you pulled the bracelet on, watching as the nanos appeared, configuring to your hand, forming a small gauntlet.

“What is it?”

You looked it over, the colors glistening when it caught the light, smiling softly. Your dad wanted to make it all violet to match your powers, but you’d wanted your dad’s colors to be incorporated, and after some back and forth, he’d agreed.

“Something my dad made. It has a small concentration of my powers in it. For emergencies. Something tells me I’m gonna need it before this is all over.”

“Maria also found Peter.”

You turned, looking up at him.

“Where is he?”

“Your friends are going to school, apparently he’s there.”

You sighed, nodding.

“Of course he’s at the one place I didn’t think to look.”

You turned, moving to walk out of the alley when Matt grabbed your wrist, gently pulling you back to him.

“Matt!”

“You’re not going to the school.”

You turned, glaring up at him.

“The hell I’m not. If Peter’s there then I need to be there.”

“You’re injured. You can’t just walk to the school. The streets are heavily patrolled now, looking for both you and Peter. If you get arrested, you won’t be able to help Peter.”

“I’ve been doing just fine on my own.”

“You can hardly stand.”

You shook your head, glaring up at him.

“I am going to the school, Mathew.”

He sighed, shaking his head.

“I’m not saying you can’t go the school, but yo-”

You scoffed, shaking your head.

“That is exactly what you just said.”

“YN, just let me help you, okay? You’re injured, and you need to get checked out.”

“My powers’ll come back and I’ll be good as new. I don’t need to be checked out, I need to be with Peter.”

Matt sighed, clenching his jaw.

“Fine.”

“I’ll take you to the school myself.”

He lifted his finger when you went to say something, shaking his head.

“And no arguing. It’s either I take you to the school, or I take you to my apartment.”

You huffed, rolling your eyes.

“Fine. You can take me to the school.”

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“I’m handling your case.”

You shook your head, looking over at him.

“No, you’re not.”

“Yes, I am.”

“No. You’ve done enough.”

“YN.”

“Mathew.”

He grinned, causing you to huff as he held his hand out towards you, helping you climb through the window.

“I’m serious. You have done enough. I don’t want you handling my case.”

“You know you can’t stop me.”

You tilted your head to the side, crossing your arms over your chest, causing Matt to grin as he laughed slightly.

“Okay, right now, you can’t stop me. So, until you get your powers back, I can do whatever I please.”

You sighed, shaking your head.

“Matt-”

He turned towards you, shaking his head.

“You can’t stop me, Mel.”

You sighed, nodding.

“Fine. But I don’t like it.”

Matt grinned, nodding.

“I know.”

He opened the door, cocking his head to the side.

“He’s up there. Are you sure I can’t help you up there?”

You smiled, shaking your head.

“No. You’ve done enough. Besides, you have to get started on my case.”

Matt laughed, nodding.

“You’re right.”

You grinned, nodding.

“Always am.”

Matt shook his head as he leaned down, pressing a kiss to your hairline, gently squeezing your side.

“Get those wounds checked out.”

“I will.”

You turned to walk up the stairs, Matt leaning forward.

“I mean it Mel.”

You nodded, smiling softly.

“I will, promise.”

He nodded, standing at the entrance for a few seconds before he turned, shutting the door. You took a few deep breaths, leaning against the wall before you started to make your way up the stairs.

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“I wanna kill him. I wanna tear him apart. I can still hear her voice in my head. Even after she was hurt, she said to me that we did the right thing. She told me with great power-”

“Come’s great responsibility.”

Peter made a face, shaking his head as he looked over at the older Peter.

“Wait, how do you know that?”

“Uncle Ben said it, the day he died. Maybe she didn’t die for nothing, Peter.”

“She didn’t.”

Peter looked over at you as you walked around the corner, your chest heaving as you leaned against the air unit, his eyes widening.

“Mel!”

He ran towards you, slamming into you as he wrapped his arms around you.

“You’re okay.”

He leaned back, shaking his head as he looked up at you, tears in his eyes.

“I- I couldn’t find you and May- May she’s-”

You nodded slightly as you reached out, wiping his tears before you hugged him.

“I know. It’s okay Peter.”

He shook his head into your neck, sniffling.

“I don’t know what to do now.”

You smiled softly as you leaned back, reaching up and pushing his hair out of his face, ruffling it slightly, causing him to shoot you a small grin.

“Now we finish it.”

You gasped a small laugh when MJ and Ned came up next to you, wrapping their arms around you and Peter, all of you hugging.

“She’s hurt.”

You tensed at the unfamiliar voice, pushing Peter and the others back behind you, glaring at the two figures.

“Who the hell are you?”

Peter shook his head as he moved in front of you, standing between you and the two men, his eyes wide.

“Hey, no, no, no. They’re the good guys, not the bad guys.”

You scoffed, slightly shaking your head.

“That tells me so much Peter, thank you.”

Peter nodded, looking back at the two men, shrugging slightly.

“Okay, that’s fair. They’re uh, so you know the spell brought people here who knew Spiderman?”

“Uh huh.”

“Well, meet me, from other universes.”

“What?”

“Peter.”

“Parker.”

You scoffed, shooting them both a look.

“What?”

The older one nodded, offering you a small smile.

“Peter Parker.”

The younger one lifted his hand in a small wave, nodding.

“Also, Peter Parker.”

You nodded slowly, relaxing only slightly as you stumbled.

“My head hurts too much for this.”

Peter tensed as he rushed towards you, holding onto your arms.

“Are you okay? What happened?”

You huffed a slight laugh, looking down at him.

“I fought a lizard and a building and the building won.”

Peter made a face, tilting his head to the side.

“What?”

“Falling hurts more than I remember. So does getting blown up.”

“Are you- are you high?”

You gasped, looking down at him.

“Peter! Starks drink. We only get high when we’re teens.”

“You didn’t.”

You snorted, shaking your head.

“That you know of.”

He laughed, slightly shaking his head as he grew serious, shooting you a look.

“Mel, if you’re not high, are you drunk?”

“With my tolerance? No.”

You lifted your shirt, Peter’s eyes widening when he saw the long cut along your side, bleeding. It wasn’t as heavy as before, but it was still bleeding enough for worry.

“I think it’s the blood loss.”

“Mel!”

You shrugged, wincing.

“What? I didn’t know it was this bad! I’ve been walking around looking for you! And Matty didn’t say anything-”

Peter made a face, shaking his head.

“Matty? Who is Matty?”

You tilted your head to the side, huffing slightly.

“Well he did say I needed to get checked out but it’s not like I could go to the tower because Officer Dimwit’s got an a warrant out for my arrest.”

“Why?” “Destruction of public property, assaulting a police officer and news reporter-”

“Yeah! She threatened Jameson, live!”

“Mel-”

“He’s lucky I didn't kill him. Which, there’s still time for that cause he’s an asshole.”

“Her eyes were glowing.”

Peter looked over your shoulder at MJ and Ned, making a face.

“What?”

“Yeah. They were glowing.”

He shook his head, looking back at you.

“I thought your powers weren’t working?”

You shrugged, looking over at Peter.

“They’re not? S’why I haven’t healed yet. Which, by the way, hurts like a bitch.”

“We should go inside.”

You nodded, stepping back when you swayed, Peter catching you before you fell.

“Ow.”

“Come on.”

Peter went to pick you up when you shook your head, slightly shoving him.

“No, you’re hurt too.”

“Mel-”

“I’ve got her.”

Peter nodded as someone knelt next to you, causing you to look up, seeing the middle Peter.

“Nu huh.”

He grinned, nodding.

“Yes huh.”

You glared, causing him to shake his head.

“You don’t scare me.”

You tilted your head to the side, smirking.

“I should.”

Peter nodded, his eyes wide as he looked between you both.

“She really should. I’ve met a lot of people and she’s the scariest.”

You gasped, lifting your arm and weakly hitting Peter’s arm.

“Peter!”

He jumped, more for show than anything as he looked down at you.

“What?! It’s true!”

You laughed, nodding.

“It is.”

Middle Peter shrugged as he picked you up, adjusting you in his arms once he stood.

“Well, Miss Scary, let's get you inside, yeah?”

You huffed, nodding as you looked up at him.

“Okay.”

He nodded, looking over at Peter.

“Lead the way.”

Peter nodded slowly, looking between you and Peter before he turned.

“Yeah, right, right. Let’s go.”

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shiroi---kumo · 9 months

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Misterican Memories || Accepting

@/lady-quen asked:

⏰ + Chaos' invasion of Misterica because you know I had to

⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆ It all just keeps getting darker.....

Everything time he looks to the sky now all he sees is dead black. This must be the Dragon Lord's coming and he didn't know how he was supposed to stand against this when Lady Tiamat has never told him how.

Usva is dead and he doesn't know what has become his teachers. He can't find Revon either and it's been a few days. Even Usva's teachers seem to have gone missing and he can only pray that none of them were swept up in the torrential winds or that ever expanding dark.

That Musta Pilari has sprung to life on them without warning and it just has to be - it has to be that of Lord Bahamut - isn't it? No. It's something else.

Lady Tiamat is very adamant within the space of his mind that her brother is not the cause of this and nor is Windaria. She keeps calling it The Great Calamity but he doesn't know what she means by that. She keeps telling him he needs to be mindful of himself because he is without His Other but he still doesn't even begin to understand what she means by all this Find your Other nonsense.

She tells him that if the Great Dark finds him, then he's going to be in trouble so he should keeps his wits about him as long as he's alone. Well he doesn't have anyone else. He doesn't know where Mother and Father have gone off to. Usva is dead. Revon is missing and so are his teachers.

He already is alone, so he doesn't know what she's expecting of him.

It takes a large show of skill on his part to manage to not get whipped around in the winds and land on the capital island that has yet to topple from the skies like so many others had. This was the most, he'd ever seen of the Kingdom as a whole and it had to be when the Musta Pilari was busy tearing everything he's ever known as loved limb from limb.

The trees were being shredded like paper as the ground peels apart like the rind on a kastemeloni. The sky has been stained with black ink and the clouds have long since faded away from within it. Remants of the old ruins and the fallen islands are being tossed amongst the winds, as Misterica herself cries out. The Celestial Mother is weeping within him.

She is practically begging him to find his Other because he cannot hope to stand against this without this person.

But she's not the only one he hears begging.

One of the members of the church. One of the higher members, Harmaa Myrsky, has him by the wrist before he has time to register it and the man is weeping.

"Your Eminence." He cries. "Spare me please. Please pardon my Mist by the Celestial Mother's light. Save us from our transgressions so we may be accepted back within the skies."

And it takes everything in his power not to yank his wrist back as he listens and watches this man beg and fall to his knees as he continues to weep.

"Transgressions? What exactly have you done?"

The man gasps as terror fills his eyes and he shakes his head.

"I - we - the papisto - we - I am sorry, Your Eminence - it was the Piipsa's idea. It always has been. It was always his call and he said it was for the betterment of - of Misterica! We- Forgive me, Your Eminence!!!"

He doesn't have time for this and the vague way this man is begging so the lunar royal is yanking his wrist free only to snap his hand forward and take the man by the collar and drag him in close as he growls.

"What was the Piipsa's idea? What has Sumu done? Out with it!"

The man trembles in his whole as he looks deep into jade eyes with terror as if he is looking at the Celestial Mother, herself.

"Forgive me, Celestial Mother. He said it would bring purity to the world and it was our duty to make sure Misterica also had a fit and proper ruler. "

"OUT WITH IT!!!"

His patience is wearing thin and he no longer has time for this man's games when he needs to find Mother and Father. He's giving the man a good shake to make his point as he snarls and mist pours out from clenched teeth.

"The Royal Family!" He shouts in fear. "The Piipsa has been pruning away the weak ones to make sure our ruler is truly fit! Long before the Piipsa. His Father and his father long before him! I - I don't know how long! I'm sorry, Your Eminence. Please spare me! "

He's throwing the man to the ground as he pulls his hand back and both hands ball into fists. A scream tears from his lungs as Mist pours out of like a dragon's breath of hot fury. Myrsky remains frozen in place only for a click to fill the space between them and the Maken rises from it's master's belt as if possessed by a will all it's own.

"I-It's true. " He stammers in fear, as he watches a small pale hand come down on the hilt and he cries. "Please My Lord! Spare me!"

"WHERE IS HE?!"

It's a violent yell as jade fades out and white replaces their color with an eerie glow.

"C-T-The Celestial Mother - L- Lady Tiamat f-forgive me." He's throwing himself to the ground, to bow before the visage of his Goddess reborn.

"WHERE IS HE?!" The Holy Vessel bellows again as he points his weapon towards the man as if to make his point. A turn of his wrist and the blade glows and transforms before the man's eyes to become the truth of all they have worshipped for all these years.

"I - I don't know! Forgive me, My Lord! Lady Tiamat I beg you!"

There is a low growl as white pours out of the body before him in wrathful plumes.

"Useless!"

He hisses as his blood threatens to boil.

"I'll find him MYSELF!!! Get out of my sight and PRAY that the skies will still take you!! I don't want anything to do with your filthy Mist! You're a disgrace on all that represents that of the Celestial Mother!!! Now GO!!!"

It doesn't take another word for the man to find a way to scramble to his feet and run from the scene leaving the heir to the Blood of Salvation to find the man that had scorned his family for the last time.

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authorsarchives · 2 years

Text

Book Review - Heaven Official’s Blessing (Tian Guan Ci Fu) by Mo Xiang Tong Xiu

(All credits to the art used below belong to STARember on Weibo and are from the official manhua)

**This review may contain spoilers for the series

╔══════════════*.·:·.☽✧ ✦ ✧☾.·:·.*══════════════╗

A Quick Summary

“A God Fallen… A Ghost Risen

Born the crown princes of a prosperous kingdom, Xie Lian was renowned for his beauty, strength, and purity. His years of dedicated study and noble deeds allowed him to ascend to godhood. But those who rise may also fall, and fall he does—cast from the heavens and banished to the world below.

Eight hundred years after his mortal life, Xie Lian has ascended to godhood for the third time, angering most of the gods in the process. To repay his debts, he is sent to the Mortal Realm to hunt down violent ghosts and troublemaking spirits who prey on the living. Along his travels, he meets the fascinating and brilliant San Lang, a young man with whom he feels an instant connection.

Yet San Lang is clearly more than he appears…

What mysteries lie behind that carefree smile?”

Heaven Official’s Blessing Blurb - Mo Xiang Tong Xiu

The novels, consisting of 241 chapters, 2050 pages, and a word count of 1.2 million, follow the adventures of Xie Lian, the former crown prince of a now-fallen kingdom, Xianle. Xie Lian ascended to godhood at the age of seventeen, but was banished, and when he ascended for the second time, he was banished again after half an hour. Now, he’s ascended for the third time, holding a record for most ascensions of any god in history. His ascension is so tremendous that the ground of the heavens quakes and lightning strikes, causing severe damage to golden palaces and buildings. He is sent to the Mortal Realm to aid humans in eradicating and investigating ghosts causing trouble, and all the thank you offerings would be counted under his name and go towards helping repay his debt.

The series switches from present time 800 years into the past, where Xie Lian’s backstory is revealed to be much more tragic than his bright personality may reveal.

San Lang, the man he meets while riding a hay cart to his makeshift shrine in Puqi village, tags along on his adventures, and towards the end of the book, it’s revealed that he is actually Hua Cheng, also known as Crimson Rain Sought Flower, a ghost ranking “Devastation”, which is the highest, most dangerous ranking of ghost. On top of that, he ranks first out of the four Calamities, making him the most powerful ghost there is, and the ruler of ghost city.

Hua Cheng dedicates his existence to helping Xie Lian, though Xie Lian can’t begin to understand why. It was revealed later on that when Xie Lian was still a crown prince, eight centuries before, he had saved Hua Cheng, known as Hong-er at the time, from falling to his death from a building during a festival. Hong-er became enamoured with Xie Lian, and spent the rest of his life — and his afterlife — trying to prove his worth to the former price.

╚══════════════*.·:·.☽✧ ✦ ✧☾.·:·.*══════════════╝

When it comes to Heaven Official’s Blessing, I really don’t think I have any critiques. It’s probably the most well-written series I’ve ever read before in my life. With fully developed characters and rich backstories, I really can’t find any faults in it. The attention to detail is immaculate. It’s filled with foreshadowing, and everything fits together perfectly in the end. You really can’t enjoy the series fully without reading it twice.

Honestly, I feel like the first book kind of tricked me. I jumped headfirst into the series, thinking it would be a lighthearted queer romance, but everything after the first volume was really too depressing. I found myself genuinely crying at times, and I had never cried over a book before, it really was an experience. I think everyone should read this series at some point in their lives.

I think it’s only fair to start off with the protagonist, Xie Lian. At first glance, Xie Lian seems like a happy-go-lucky character, endlessly selfless and positive. However, there are subtle hints of his dark past, which become more and more apparent as the series progresses.

Something I like about this series is even though it supposedly has a happy ending, it’s not absolutely perfect for everyone. There are a lot of characters that got the short end of the stick, which makes it so much more realistic. Friendships end, betrayals ensue, and some characters are left with permanently crippling wounds — both emotional and physical — that maybe could have been avoided if things had been thought through just a little bit more.

As someone who doesn’t usually like angsty books, I actually enjoyed the ending. It gave everything a neat closure and tied up all the loose ends. Everything fell into place perfectly, even arcs from the first book that didn’t really feel like they had much use at the time.

Overall, I would rate this book a full five stars, and I highly recommend it.

#tgcf #tgcf manhua #tgcf novel #tgcf donghua #tian guan ci fu #heaven official's blessing #hua cheng #hualian #xie lian #feng xin #mo xiang tong xiu #mu qing #mxtx

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phantasmalcalamity-a · 2 years

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//If it wasn’t entirely obvious already, I’m on a full hiatus for now.

I’m taking care of my Mom through her cancer, and working one full time job AND one part time job. I have little time to sleep, much less do anything I enjoy.

I love and miss you all, and I hope to be back soon. <3

You can find me on occasion on my discord

𝙓Ƈαℓαмιту#1996

#☾✩☽ Out of Calamity #activity update #tw: cancer

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samus1mp · 3 years

Text

For the First Time

╔═══ * .·:·. ☽ ✧ ✦ ✧ ☾ .·:·. * ═══╗

Paring: Commoner!Osamu x Princess!Reader

Genre: Fluff, Slow burn(?), Royal!AU,

W.C: 5.6k+

Warnings: Very cliche, use of 1800's slang,

might suck cause I’m hella rusty ;-;

╚═══ * .·:·. ☽ ✧ ✦ ✧ ☾ .·:·. * ═══╝

I was never one to believe in love at first sight.

The mere concept of taking a single look at a complete stranger and deciding that they were the one for you seemed so childish and unreasonable to me. I simply just didn’t understand it. How could anyone decide who your life-long partner is on a whim, on a single feeling, without getting to know what lies beyond the surface? Love solely based on what meets the eye? It’s laughable how shallow that is. It’s truly and utterly preposterous.

Love.

An interesting thing that it is.

The idealism of love had only begun to plague my mind as of recent. The intrusion of it was unwelcome, of course, and one that I was not willing to let stay. As you can probably imagine, I wasn’t the one who opened these sickeningly sweet gates. Mother and Father were the ones to blame for introducing these crazed concepts to me.

The beginning of this compassionate calamity began on the night of the celebration of my 18th birthday. Unbeknownst to me, my two ever-so considerate parents had decided that it was time for me to settle down. I shall never forget how Mother suddenly entered my corridor after the festivities came to a close.

The moon bared its light to the world as servants frantically ran around the castle's halls, cleaning, dusting, and erasing all evidence that there had even been a celebration in the first place. Mother's entrance was quiet but most certainly not unnoticed. Soft “m’lady”’s echoed throughout the silent room, effectively capturing my attention. I watched on in confusion as she asked all maids present to clear out the room. Now alone, she had joined me on my bed, sitting at my side, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear before speaking.

“You’ve grown into quite the young woman, my Dear. Your Father and I could not be more proud of you.”

Her tone had sounded so unbelievably sincere whilst speaking, and I recalled my cheeks heating up ever so slightly. Moments like that with her were obscenely rare. Moments where she treated me like a daughter rather than the prestigious princess of Miyagi who must honor her family's name. A shy smile took over my features as pride began to swell in my chest from the praise.

“As such, we knew this day would come eventually… This is a very important time for any woman's life and... We would like you to find a partner to settle down with.”

All those positive emotions swirling within me washed away immediately and I could feel my smile sink into a deep frown. Betrayal picked away at my heart as I began to question the sincerity and honesty of her previous “kind” words.

I was displeased, to say the least.

And to think, I was truly about to have a lovely, serene, moment with her.

The night ended with an argument between me and Mother.

I begged her to understand that I was not ready for such things nor was it in my best interest to find a man at an age as young as mine. She simply huffed and looked at me with familiar disappointed eyes.

“I’m sorry, my Dear, but you are of age now. It’s time for you to grow up and face these responsibilities.”

She did not sound apologetic at all.

From there, these languish, hellish talks became much too common for my liking. Mother took every opportunity to remind me to “keep my eyes open and alert” and how my “suitor may just be around the corner”. Eventually, Father got dragged into this mess, and I soon found myself trapped in countless awkward conversations with him, watching on as he scrambled for words to say.

I wanted nothing more than to scream to the heavens and beg for mercy on my dear life.

“Chin up for me dear, straighten your back, and please stop moping.”

Speaking of the Devil herself.

I find myself standing before three mirrors, each passing expression of mine looking more bored than the last. Immediately I corrected my posture, though doing nothing to “fix” the sour look that was worn upon my face. I opted to curse under my breath instead which ultimately earned me a soft smack to my arm.

“No man is going to fall for a princess who slouches” Mother lectures, doing up the last few laces of my corset before tightening them a little too harshly. I wince slightly as the fabric encases and squeezes my torso and I say a final goodbye to the last bit of air swirling around in my lungs.

“I need you to actually try tonight, (Y/N). There are going to be countless candidates vying for your attention tonight. Please indulge them. You haven’t a clue as to what may happen. You may finally find the one.”

The urge to hurl arises within me as I force myself to stomach the verbal bile that was about to slip its way past my lips. As if that’s all I've ever wanted...The attention of countless men... Mother speaks as if her words were meant to provide me comfort. But if anything all they do is make me wish that I would fall into a river and drown just to avoid tonight's gathering.

Tonight Mother and Father were hosting another ball to find a suitor for me once and for all...As if this exact scheme hadn’t worked the past three times they attempted to do so. But, as they always told me in that impossibly confident tone of theirs, “This time will be different, Darling''. Apparently, today's catch is that they’ve invited countless royal families from all different kingdoms with sons who are “eager to meet me”.

I laugh at the thought.

As if these money-hungry snobs want to meet me.

They’re not interested in me. They’re simply just interested in the wealth and luxury that comes with my family's name.

That’s always been the case without fail anyways.

As Mother finished her handy work, she gave me one final stern, knowing look. “Make your mother proud,” she spoke, urging me to consider her words and entertain her thoughts. She quietly parts ways with me from there. From her departure, several maids and helpers scurry into the room, replacing her presence as they immediately get to work in aiding me with my appearance.

I watch on as my face is poked and prodded at as it’s painted in neutral and pink hues. My cheeks became coated in a rosy blush as my lips were painted a devilish red before layers of powder were applied. My hair is then pulled and twisted into a tight bun and fastened with a lustrous cherry ribbon.

Once my hair and face had been addressed I found myself being pulled into a large, obnoxious, burgundy, gown. The garment slowly was pulled up along my form then tightly tied, further pushing the limits of my already exasperated lungs. Resting snugly on my petite shoulders, it fell just above my feet. Its silk-like texture shone and reflected under the lighting of my room giving off a fairly elegant feel. Coupled with the lace lining the end of the sleeves and the edges of the bust, it was as if this gown was simply demanding and promising that all eyes would be on me.

I swallow nervously at the thought.

As the maids made their final touches and smoothed out each and every crease they could find, I gave myself a once-over. I stared at the reflection before me and the drastic contrast between my before and after was shocking. Caked in makeup and dressed in cotton, silk, and lace. And I could confidently say I didn’t recognize myself.

But whatever makes Mother proud, right?

★。＼｜／。★

The ballroom had always been a sight to behold. Velvet drapes, lining the walls, polished marble flooring, and an extravagant chandelier hanging in the center of the room. This room itself was the very definition of refined.

The mellow melody of violins and piano keys wafted through the air gently and echoed throughout the vicinity. The sweet tune was accompanied by the polite chatter of guests of all different statuses and the soft tapping of shoes along the monochromatic floors. The richness of decadent pastries, sweet cheeses, and other refined dishes easily took over the senses and surely would make one's mouth overflow with drool.

Such wonderful sensations and feelings were being tapped into but yet, I find myself looking boredly down on the scene before me. These sights and emotions have gone stale a long while ago and have become insufferably repetitive.

I watched on as those below me appeared to be enjoying themselves immensely, and I wished I could feel an ounce of the pleasure they were experiencing. But as I found myself sitting stiffly on a throne that was beginning to feel more like a gold-encrusted zoo cage and adorning a tight-lipped smile that never met my eyes, I immediately lost all hope.

I simply could not wait for this horrid night to be over.

A soft tap to my arm is what draws me out of my brooding state. Mother stares back at me with an expectant gaze and I simply quirk my brow in response.

“I think it’s time that you speak to some of the guests, don’t you?”

I stared at her in shock. That fake smile I was wearing dissipates as I look at Mother, visibly unimpressed.

“Announcing,(Y/N) (L/N), Princess of the Miyagi Kingdom-!”

But before I could even refute my Mothers demand, one of the servants were already declaring my presence to the hundreds. Several eyes shifted towards where my parents and I had been situated and I was forced to quickly gather myself. Slowly, I rise to my feet and stand in front of the sea of people before me and send a gentle smile and wave to the crowd. Cheers and claps immediately overpowered the atmosphere as dozens of individuals praised my presence and cheered for me doing the bare minimum.

I tried my best to not scrunch up my face.

An arm was soon presented to me and without question I took it, already knowing what the routine was. Slowly I was led to the main floor, the heels of my shoes clicking along the tiled flooring as I took one last breath before being pulled into the belly of the beast. Whomever my escort was, I did not see but as soon as they came, they left and I was forced to face these people all alone.

I do my best to hold my head up high as I begin to navigate the floor. I stiffly talk with several townsfolk, exchanging pleasantries and half-hearted smiles. People of all kinds speak with me and share pieces of their stories. Doctors, Educators, Authors, Artists, and Midwives share their gratitude with me and I return the favor, thanking them for their hard work.

Although a little discomforting. I drastically preferred these conversations to the ones I have with any of the contenders attempting to steal my heart (and riches). I find my spirits being lifted ever so slightly as I find myself yet to encounter any of those egotistical maniacs.

“They will come to you dear. It’s a man's job to introduce himself to a pretty lady”

My Mothers words echoed throughout my head as I came to realize the solace I was currently experiencing wouldn’t last long. So as I continued to conversate, I made a mental note of my plan for the evening. All I had to do was wait, talk with a few people, kindly reject any perpetrators, make my disinterest clear and I can be on my way-

“Truly, you have no reason to thank me, not when you are the one who’s- Ah!”

The soft cry abruptly leaves my mouth as I unintentionally interrupt myself in the midst of a discussion with a humble townsfolk and I find myself suddenly being pushed from the back. Soft gasps echoed around the room as I scrambled to find my footing. I thank the heavens that the sweet women I had been conversing with came to my aid and helped me put myself in order. Thanking her silently, I gather myself before turning to see who my supposed attacker was.

A young man stood before me, panic evident in his eyes. He had dark brown hair and even darker eyes, he was fairly well sculpted and the suit he dawned was a deep shade of black. He was visibly tense and I noticed the slight tremble that consumes his being as he recognized who I was and he recognized what he’d done.

I immediately take pity on the poor man and send him a gentle smile, trying to assure him that I was more than alright. His shoulders relax and he sends a gentle smile in return.

“Assaulting a member of the royal family is quite a crime, you know? Your head can be taken off for such actions'' I then joked, hoping that my tone would ease him further and make light of the situation.

But my smile faltered as I watched the man’s complexion turn a ghostly shade of white before he hastily dropped to his knees and began to profusely apologize and beg for forgiveness. I deflated. My light-hearted demeanor immediately changed as I frantically tried to calm down the male before he began to smear his tears and snot on the pristine, clean, marble floor.

I could feel countless gazes surrounding me as guests watched the dramatic scene before them. Whispers soon began to arise and I had no choice but to brush them off. I continued to reassure the delirious male before me, painfully waiting for him to finally calm down and to get it together.

Within a few passing minutes, I had been able to clear the air. The male departed with teary eyes and a wobbly smile. He bid me one last apology and a "goodbye" before he scurried away, hanging his head in shame.

I sighed softly.

...Off to a great start already...

★。＼｜／。★

From there, the evening only continued to be a disaster. After that incident came and passed countless men had suddenly found the confidence to finally approach me. Each one of them tried to size up the last and desperately tried to leave an impression.

The extent they went to was laughable.

With each and every introduction and conversation, the men only became snobbier and snobbier and my patience was only becoming thinner and thinner. Each man trying to be the bricky cookie-cutter exemplar of what a prince should be. But by shamelessly flaunting their status and waving their riches in my face to entice me, it was safe to say I had no interest in pursuing anything further with these individuals.

Talking to these stuck-up meaters was exhausting.

“I must excuse myself now, Murata-san. It was a pleasure speaking to you, truly” I say, quickly cutting off my current conversation with the latest male trying to pursue me. I send a polite smile to the stout man before me, slightly bowing to give thanks for his time. He sends me a cocky smirk as he responds with “Likewise”, before parting ways with me.

Disgusting. I wanted to hurl.

After being freed from the shackles that were that interaction, I immediately began to move. Desperately needing a moment to myself, I begin to search the room for any vacant areas. Cautiously, I took calculated steps as I tried to break free from the crowd of people without having to speak with another soul. I pray to God that I would finally be able to get a speck of cool air into my system.

I find peace in a quiet corner near one of the many buffets. Listening to how the endless stream of voices began to quiet down, I felt my shoulders relax as I successfully isolated myself from the swarm. Leaning against the wall behind me for support, I allow my eyes to momentarily shut themselves as I welcome the newfound air into my lungs.

I really was beginning to hate these gatherings.

Every single one of them. They all were the same. The beginning and end results consistently remain stagnant as each time my parents attempted to find me a husband of my own proved to be futile.

T’was honestly infuriating that the two of them had yet to realize how repulsed I was.

“Excuse me, miss.”

The sound of a masculine voice rang in my ear and effectively ripped away the silence I had worked so hard for. I almost wanted to cry. What was my luck this evening? Was a minute alone far too much to ask for?

But as much as I wished to have cursed out the man who disturbed my peace, I knew Mother would have my head on a silver platter if I even dared to speak rudely to a single guest. So unwillingly, I force my eyes open and straighten my back. I try to put on the kindest smile I can before facing whoever this wretched man was.

“Yes? How can I help you?”

“Is the shrimp good?”

My jaw nearly dropped at the strange question. Caught off guard, all I could do was gape stupidly at the tall man before me as I met his gaze for the first time. After mentally preparing for another forced and uninteresting conversation where I'd have to simply watch a man fight for a piece of the status and wealth I held-

To have something so odd to be asked… I truly was at a loss for words.

...To think that this was simply another man after my family's title...

I truly didn’t know how foolish I was being at the time.

His gaze was already awaiting mine when my eyes first shifted to his. I find myself being met with curious velvety pools of chocolate brown... and perhaps it was a trick of light I swore I could see specks of purple flowing within them.

And for the first time, after countless tiring gatherings and conversations, a man had finally been able to capture my attention. Whether that was from his strange words or encaptivating eyes- I cannot say.

Interesting.

I realized I have yet to respond.

“Uhm-! I… Don’t know? I would assume so though, the chefs in the kitchens are quite profound” I sputtered out incredulously, oddly feeling my cheeks grow warm. Since when did I become so timid? Where had all my confidence gone? God...I haven’t stumbled over my words since I was a bantling.

“I see. Guess 'm gonna have to try them for myself”

That was the first time I took notice of his accent. I swore I hadn’t heard anything like it before. Melodic and sweet but at the same time deep and harsh. He wasn’t from around here. That was for sure.

But at the same token, I found my confusion tenfolding. What exactly was this conversation I was having...Discussing the appetizers at my family's event... He speaks to me as if I simply was just another commoner within this flock of individuals. Was he even aware of who I was? Even though I had my name and presence proudly announced to the dozens?

I’ve never been spoken to in such a way, not even once by Mother or Father.

I question why a tiny voice in my head tells me I don't mind.

Fully finding myself unable to look away, I continue to watch the intriguing male before me as he reaches around me and picks up the very crustacean he had been asking about prior before popping the delicacy into his mouth.

He chews and then swallows.

He sends me a soft smile.

Why had my heart skipped a beat?

“You were right, they’re incredible!”

Why was there this warmth rapidly being spread across my features?

Why did it feel like I was standing within the sun's rays and soaking up every last bit of heat and kindness it had to offer?

...Silver.

That was the color of his hair.

I take notice of this as he tilts his head towards me and I see the color glimmer under the lights of the chandelier.

I questioned if it was of old age or if this was a birth defect of his.

But goodness, could I not deny that the color intrigued me so.

“Ah right, I haven’t introduced myself yet,” the man then spoke, outstretching his hand to mine. I place my own and his and watched in shock as he gave it a gentle shake before letting go.

How casual.

“Miya.” He then spoke, I rose an eyebrow as I awaited for him to continue.

“My family’s name,” he then said, sending me a soft grin and I didn’t bother to question why he hadn’t mentioned his forename.

Generally speaking, I didn’t understand what was going on in the slightest. Why was this strange and objectively rude man was treating me in such an informal manner and why it was just so... magnetic. How did every abnormal aspect of his being, effortlessly capture my attention in a vice grip? It was almost frightening that I found myself unable to tear my gaze away from his. It was terrifying that for once I did not feel an ounce of resentment or awkwardness whilst conversing with another being. Nevertheless a male. I catch myself though, before my strange thoughts could descend into whatever madness awaits them.

Was this even proper? To have my sole attention and to spare more than a minute on a commoner such as he?

It was obvious, was it not?

One look is all that it took to realize that he wasn’t royalty, although his neat black trousers and pristine ruffled white button-up worked as an excellent disguise, it wasn’t difficult to realize that he was completely out of his element.

His lack of formalities and casual demeanor was a dead giveaway of that.

“What kingdom do you come from, Miya-san?” I then asked, allowing my curiosity to get the better of me as I simply wished to know more about the silvered-haired man.

“’m a farmer from Hyogo. I was invited here by one of my superiors,” he informed, not missing a beat as he obviously caught on to the look of suspicion I had sent his way.

A farmer...

His looks certainly did not match his occupation.

“Now then… Do you mind telling me why yer sittin’ far away from the crowd, princess?”

I allowed his voice to flood my ears once more as I found myself allured by its tune. Blinded by its sweet notes, it takes me a few moments to ground myself and to fully process the question he presented.

So he knew who I was. He knew my status and place within this kingdom. Yet, he still speaks to me in such a nonchalant manner? As if my title was for nothing else but display and without it, I was like him?

He certainly didn't treat me like royalty. And it seems as if he didn't care that I was.

Why did I find that relieving? That, I don’t think I’ll ever know.

But through my twisted and backward thought process, I come to welcome the odd sense of comfort his words brought. The tone in which he spoke had no underlying meaning, no ill insinuations. Just pure unadulterated concern.

My heart rate picked up ever so slightly.

“...I simply needed an escape...” I say, my voice far too small for my liking and I worry he'd be unable to hear my response. A pang of embarrassment arises within me as I immediately think about how Mother would scold me for allowing my confidence to waver.

“From..?” He inquires, pushing for more information.

It’s such a simple question to which, I knew exactly what my answer was. But yet, I find myself being hesitant within that moment. I wondered if he'd even seen what I'd been doing for the entire evening. Had he sent a single look my way he would have seen the torture I was being put through.

…Torture...

Was it even appropriate to call it that?

Shame begins to accumulate within me as I reflect on my dramatics. Though I understood my discomfort, was I truly in the right to be this bothered or upset by my circumstance? My gaze drops from his, suddenly feeling bashful and embarrassed by my thoughts and emotions. A voice within me begins the lecture myself for being so agitated by having to engage in such superficial things as conversation,

“You’ll laugh if I tell you the truth.”

“Try me.”

His reply is instant, and my eyes snap to his. Those endless gems continued to hold that same unwavering curiosity. Looking at me as if he truly was interested in each and every word I spoke and as if it was of uttermost importance.

God, I hoped that it wasn't my own selfish ideals interpreting such things.

Whatever hesitance I had been experiencing beforehand faded away into the unknown as I relent and spill my truth.

“I couldn’t handle another pesky conversation with a stuck-up prince vying for my hand in marriage," I say, feeling a sudden weight being lifted off my shoulders when I finish. Relief fills me as I come to realize how lovely it felt to finally admit such a thing out loud to someone.

Miya-san chuckles softly and my eyes snap back to his without missing a beat. I watched as he attempted to cover his reaction by placing a hand over his mouth, but he failed, miserably. I looked at the silver-haired man in disbelief. My offended, widened, eyes stared at him as if to say "You did not just do that".

"I'm not laughing at you, I swear," he says, wearing that stupidly kind smile of his.

"I'm just imagining how awful it must have been to talk with all these vazey sleazeballs… God I would hate to navigate a conversation as awkward as the ones you've had"

Surely my heart had to have been failing as I felt it stutter within my chest.

Seriously, I ask again, what in the Lord's name was going on with me?

His gentle laughter settled down and the two of us fell into a short silence. I refused to admit how much I hate it. His eyebrows furrowed for a moment and he looked as if he had been contemplating something.

Another moment of silence passed before he finally spoke.

“Say, do ya fancy a dance by any chance?”

“Pardon?” I questioned, taken aback by his forwardness. I watch as he shrugs his shoulders ever so slightly, his grin remaining on his lips.

“I mean, this is a party is it not? ‘N you look like you could use some fun. I doubt you’d want to spend the rest of your evening brooding in a corner… So what do ya say?” Miya-san says these words as if they were as easy as breathing air and he offered a hand to me. Those chocolate browns now holding something I couldn’t recognize but I could tell his gaze was fond, inviting even.

Good Heavens...as if I had it in me to say no.

I place my hand in his and our fingers intertwine. With this contact, I came to realize how rough his hands were, and with my palm firmly against my own, I could clearly feel the calluses adorning them. The contrast in our skin somehow managed to make my mind go haywire.

I allowed him to take the lead as he made a B-line to the dance floor. The two of us weaved through the crowd and soon we were in the midst of all the commotion. The music was much louder and I could hear conversation flowing all around us.

“You’re quite a bold one, aren’t you?” I quipped as the man turned to me and took a hold of both my hands, pulling me closer to him ever so slightly. His thumbs soothingly brushed over the bones of my knuckles and I found myself choking on my breath.

“Not necessarily, I just believe that the belle of the ball should be the center of attention,” he said grinning at me.

Charming, wasn’t he?

With my hands still in his, he gently moved them towards himself. Carefully, he guided them so that they loosely rested on his shoulders before his own took their place on my waist shortly after. My cheeks were set ablaze at the intimate position.

As the two of us begin to sway, I come to recognize the soft sweet playing of the violin once more as the orchestra starts up a new tune.

It’s slow and harmonic. The singing of strings float through the air, each note featherlight but impactful. The smoky tones of a saxophone soon followed, not being far behind as its sound demanded attention as it accompanied the fluttering keys of a piano and the deep sultry voice of a bass.

I find myself succumbing to this angelic melody, and for the first time this evening, I finally take everything in.

The bliss I had yet to recognize. The spell I had suddenly been put under and am unable to break free from. The rapid beating of my heart and the way that it screamed to flee from its rightful place within my chest. The way I had been introduced to so many emotions and sensations at once to a point where my mind hadn’t been able to comprehend them all.

The way I have allowed myself to be completely captured by a man whose hair shone brighter than the finest of silverish jewelry, whose eyes held such a hypnotic look and contained pools of liquid lilac that I simply wished to drown in. Whose smile relentlessly proved itself to be the biggest star within a night sky. A man whose name I don’t even know with a voice that reminds me of autumn's breeze and whose attention feels like that first sip of hot tea on a winter's morning.

I find myself truly and utterly helpless.

And for the first time in quite a while, Mother’s words echo within my head.

“You haven’t a clue as to what may happen. You may finally find the one.”

The one.

Is that what this was?

...I, who had always refuted the very concept of love-

I immediately imagined what Mother and Father would have thought. The Princess of their Kingdom and only daughter, dancing and mingling with a nameless foreign farmer? I could practically feel their distraught just at the very thought.

My eyes screwed shut as I tried to push the idea of their harsh disapproval out of my mind.

I felt a gentle presence rest at the tops of my head and my eyes fluttered open out of curiosity. Miya-sans forehead rested on mine and I swore my brain short-circuited as I quickly forgot about whatever nonsense was plaguing my mind.

“I know you royals are very particular with your looks... So I’m not so sure how much my words will be worth as a simple commoner...” he muttered softly, eyes hooded and solely focusing on me (as if they ever strayed in the first place) and I was too late to realize that I’d forgotten how to breathe.

“But... you’re absolutely breathtaking”

I swore I could feel the sparkles and hearts swirling within my eyes as he spoke. I grinned from ear to ear and I concluded that I could care less about whatever my parents may think of us.

“You don’t look too bad yourself”

My reply is light-hearted and teasing and I could feel myself being sent into a daze as he laughs in response.

A sudden wave of euphoria washed over me as it felt as if everything around me became a blur.

And it truly just was me and him.

I felt so whole, so free. No more of those intruding thoughts or sinking feelings.

No remnants of resent or disgust.

I felt... safe. Content.

His hands find my own once more before spinning us around, arms stretched before one another. A laugh passed my lips as my hair and gown flowed gently with the movements. My eyes closed as I reveled in the moment.

Perfection was the only word that came to my mind.

Slowly, our twirling came to halt, as my eyes reopened to meet his gaze for the nth time that night. My heart blared in my ear and easily muffled out the music that was still being played. Beneath my skin, everything was cardiac as I drowned in every element that made him, him.

Suddenly brought chest to chest with him, I feel our beating hearts against one another. Matching each other's pace and coming together as if this is what they had been made for. I’m forced to look up to continue to meet his gaze and my mind goes numb.

The fluttering of eyes.

The gentle yet intense breaths being taken.

The first graze that ignites the fire within.

Completion.

Ripped straight from a fairy tale I mind myself afloat as my lips meet his. It is a sensation that, to this day, I am unable to describe. It truly was something that couldn’t be compared to. I heard angels singing and church bells ringing. I felt as if a piece of myself, that I didn’t even know I had lost, had been found. As if every moment in my life so far was nothing more than the climax for this very kiss.

Two pieces of a puzzle slotting together and moving harmoniously in sync.

I begin to succumb to those notions that have plagued my entire being.

I, who refuted the very concept of love and all the complications that came with it-

-had completely and utterly fallen head over heels.

★。＼｜／。★

The night, unfortunately, comes to a close before I knew it, and the man leaves me with his name before we reluctantly part ways.

Osamu.

His name plays in my head over and over again. Each and every letter, each syllable, blending together in perfect harmony and making my brain go into overdrive.

The five letters carve themselves into my heart, forever leaving a mark and leaving a promise that the two of us shall meet once more.

So as I now find myself within my chambers, laying alone and daydreaming. My eyes feel hazy as a now-familiar warmth spreads throughout my chest.

Love at first sight.

A concept I despised and rejected by all means.

An occurrence that I had thought was nonsensical and impossible to have.

Childish. Ridiculous. Preposterous.

...

It was. It truly and utterly was all those things.

It was a feeling that runs you over like a steaming train, hitting you so quick you have no chance of fighting back.

It was multiple overwhelming sensations coursing through your being as your senses are set ablaze.

It's that sudden rush of fresh air when stepping out into the world for the first time.

It's those unshakable nerves before seeing the doctor.

It's sweet.

It's scary.

It's absurd in every way imaginable.

Love at first sight.

How lucky was I to experience such a thing?

★。＼｜／。★

A/N: This one was a doozy- I’m so sorry if any portion of this is nonsensical or dull... It really has been a long while since I’ve written a proper fic ;-;

But anyways- I love Osamu very much;;; he’s just so funky

I will be writing more things soon- I promise- more fics and more headcanons coming soon^^

#osamu x reader #osamu miya x reader #haikyuu #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu fluff #hq x reader #miya osamu #osamu #hq osamu #fluff #haikyuu fanfiction

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